


peachy keen.

by zabiume



Series: How to Win Fights and Influence People [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Drinking, Gen, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:14:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24898258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zabiume/pseuds/zabiume
Summary: Renji is drunk and as they say in the ol' Gotei, that's as good a time as any to get a tattoo.
Relationships: Abarai Renji & Ayasegawa Yumichika, Ayasegawa Yumichika & Madarame Ikkaku
Series: How to Win Fights and Influence People [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801651
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	peachy keen.

**Author's Note:**

> Renji probably got his tatts before he joined Squad 11 but I’d like to run with my version anyway. 
> 
> Canon-compliant-ish, pre-Lieutenant Renji, very minor RenRuki, mentions of needles, tattoos and alcohol.

“Ikkaku? Yumi?”

Ikkaku looked up from his woodwork, quirking his eyebrows at Yumichika.

“Oh dear.” Yumichika shook his head, rising from his mat. “Abarai, you better not be throwing up on the front door again.”

“M’not.” Renji slurred, entering the barracks with devilish grin. “Just wanted to come bother my favorite seated officers.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere but you are free to keep going.” Yumichika smiled smugly, Renji trailing in behind him.

“Ya look like shit.” Ikkaku drawled. He cocks an eye to the clock. “And it’s barely noon.”

Renji snorted.

“Please, like day-drinking is beneath the likes of you,” Yumichika said, albeit affectionately, clocking Ikkaku’s head with the side of his palm. Renji didn't think anyone else would be able to keep their arms after that, but Renji was _sloshed_ so he didn't know anything, really. 

Yumichika plants Renji into the armchair, tilting his head back. “Abarai, you are neither my type nor do you objectively fit into _anyone’s_ type --”

“-- thanks.”

“But,” Yumichika interrupted. “I think that has more to do with your awful hairline than your attitude.“ He traces his finger along the mountain of Renji’s hairline, two bald triangles piercing into deep red hair. “We should really fix that.”

“Y’could give me a tattoo,” Renji suggested, dancing a pointed finger in circles, up in the air. “Like the ones you did on Iba last week.”

Ikkaku chuckled. “His mom’s gonna have his ass for that.” He nabbed Renji’s abdomen with his toe. “Newb here’s got no one to tell him it’s a bad idea.”

“It _is_ a bad idea,” Renji agreed, with a grin. “I am full of those lately.”

Yumichika and Ikkaku met eyes over Renji’s body. It’s obvious Renji never planned to stay long in the Eleventh - that it was some kind of self-destructive warpath he’d chosen as a pit stop before transferring to the Sixth - but a statement like that was always going to be trademark Eleven.

_You can take the boy out of Zaraki Corps,_ Yumichika mused, with a smile. “As much as I loathe your bad ideas,” he said. “This one doesn’t seem as bothersome. Stop me now before I bring out the gun.”

Ikkaku was already lazily reaching out for the kits, rattling the needles and inks as he passed it on to Yumichika. He picked up the stencil liquid and a bunch of fancy pens.

“What’re you thinking?” Renji asked. “Stripes?”

“God, no, what do you take me for Abarai?” Yumichika asked, mildly horrified. _“Stripes.”_ He shakes his head, with a mock sigh. “You have a lot to learn about aesthetics.”

“Iba got a peach on his ass, I don’t think it gets more _aesthetic_ than that.” Ikkaku grinned, but he crossed his legs to watch anyway. “Give ‘im a gash, since Houzukimaru’s always cutting ‘im anyway.”

“Actually, speaking of,” Renji said, thoughtfully, instead of taking Ikkaku’s invitation to banter. “You think you can make it match Zabi somehow?”

“A curious suggestion indeed,” Yumichika replied. “Jagged edges, thick lines. The sign of a tough soldier snaking his way through eloquence, through places he doesn’t belong. Marking territory that isn’t his, very meta, I like it.”

“Just want cool lines.” Renji whispered, with a shrug.

Yumichika started tracing out patterns on the stencil, referencing Renji’s blade with a few subtle mazes of his own. The lines were thick and block-like, but sharp around the edges, like Renji’s own Zabimaru, curling into itself. There would definitely be no room to regret it, once Renji’s hangover and common sense kicked in.

“The day a brat with eyebrow tattoos beats a Kuchiki is the day I start wearing a _kasa,_ ” Ikkaku commented, biting his nail.

Yumichika grimaced at the thought. “For the better of us both I hope I’ll be long dead by then,” he said. “No offense, Abarai.”

“None taken, Yumi,” Renji replied cheerfully, half dazed with the sting of the gun and the alcohol attacking him from either side.

“Seriously, kid, you’re gonna scare the girl off at this rate,” Ikkaku commented. _“Eyebrow tattoos.”_

Renji laughed, a sharp bark. Yumichika slapped the side of his head to get him to stay still. “Rukia ain’t scared of shit. She’s the toughest girl I know.” His voice was colored in pride, in affection, in faraway dreams that took soldiers too early.

Ikkaku and Yumichika locked gazes again, with a scoff. Renji was still leagues away from anywhere near a Captain’s level. Most officers that joined the Eleventh didn’t stay long but there were few that really fit in. The ones that took a piece of the squad with them when they left.

Renji would definitely be one of them.

**Author's Note:**

> kazeshini-s on Tumblr!


End file.
